


Monsters Never Die

by Aki_Aiko



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2020-01-23 10:50:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18548281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aki_Aiko/pseuds/Aki_Aiko
Summary: The Margolem gets recycled.  The monster still wants a name.I've decided to do The Magicians drabbles and will be posting them here.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just putting in my contribution because this season has been one long, frustrated sigh. I wanted more Darth Eliot!

Quentin stumbled into the penthouse kitchen and made a beeline for the coffee pot, mumbling a 'good morning' to the people he spotted from the corner of his eye. The room had fallen suddenly quiet at his entrance but, again...coffee. It took a few sips before he was able to 'nut up,' as Margo would say, and turn around to face his friends.

"Holy shit!"

The coffee mug dropped from his nerveless fingers and cracked at his feet. All the physical kids were gathered around the living room in a circle. And in the middle of the circle, weirdly clean-shaven and surpringly healthy looking, stood a figure which made Quentin's heart start beating faster. He edged his way closer to join them.

"Uh...guys...what's Darth Eliot doing here?"

The Monster immediately zeroed in on Quentin. "Darth. Is THAT my name?"

Quentin took a few deep breaths and resisted the urge to rush to Eliot's side. Eliot, who was still pale and trembling against the cane in his hand. "How did you get here?"

"I don't know. I was floating." His gaze swung to Margo. "You hhhurt me."

"Damn straight I did." Margo's fingers twitched. She was clearly readying herself for a fight. 

"I'd kind of like to know why he's still in my body, Bambi, preferably BEFORE you go all Lizzie Borden on him again." Eliot glanced around the penthouse uneasily. "I am here, right?"

Quentin hurried to him then and wrapped a hand around his arm to ground him, ever aware of the hungry look the Monster gave him. 

"So how did he get here?" Penny 23 asked. "It's not like we got spare Eliot parts just laying around."

"Fuuuck."

Eliot grinned at his favorite girl. Woman. King. First light of his life. "Margo. What did you do?"

"I thought you were gonna die, asswipe. Did you really think I'd let you STAY dead?"

"You didn't make one of me?" Quentin asked, a bit hurt.

Margo rolled her eyes. "Yeah, sorry about that. I forgot what an idiot you are."

Eliot shifted so he could rub a hand up and down Quentin's arm. "Now, now. Let's not fight. Everything worked out, didn't it?"

"Uh, guys." Alice shifted nervously as the Monster shuffled forward.

"Now that I have a name, can we go to Ssstarbucks?"

"Sure. Yeah. We can do that."

"Quentin," Eliot muttered. "What are you doing?"

Quentin put on the same expression he'd worn before and forced his voice into a friendly range. "We're going out with a friend for some coffee. Right? And, uh, Darth can tell us all about what his plans are. And, hey, by the way-how's your sister?"

The Monster let himself be led to the door. "She didn't understand. About the beauty here. And the quiet."

They all paused at that and shared a glance. 

At the nearest Starbucks, the Monster sat quietly and didn't even bother to eviserate the poor barista who spelled his new name wrong. He semed diminished, somehow, as if his resurrection had changed him. Maybe it was the living clay. They didn't even get his story that day, just sat there in silence.


	2. Brakebills

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quentin makes new friends at Brakebills, the mental hospital he's been admitted to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've figured out what to do! Drabbles. I seem to be more motivated to do those than longer stories. Plotting's just really not my strong point.

By the time his doctor had gotten the right dosage and medication combo right, Quentin had been at Brakebills for three weeks. Getting out of bed had taken a tremendous amount of willpower that he didn’t have. Usually a nurse would come to help him shuffle his way to the cafeteria, where he would stare at his bowl of lumpy oatmeal and imagine it was mocking him for his uselessness. Sometimes, someone would come and sit next to or across from him and try to talk, but he couldn’t even bring himself to lift his head to find out what they wanted, much less see who they were.

So it was a relief, really, when his head started to clear. The first thing he registered as he looked up from yet another bowl of oatmeal was a pair of dark-rimmed eyes staring at him.

“Uhhh. Hi?” Quentin fiddled with the spoon in his hands. “I’m sorry, have we met?”

Whoever the other man was, he didn’t seem offended, just leaned closer across the table. His eyes bored into Quentin’s with a strange intensity. “No. But you’ve been sitting there for a really long time.”

Quentin swallowed. The man’s voice was kind of, well, sexy. The dead-eyed, blank expression...not so much. “Oh. I’m sorry?”

“Why are you sorry? Did you do something wrong? They don’t like it when you do something wrong.”

Little alarm bells were going off in his head now. A quick glance around the room showed a couple of nurses hovering nearby, but they didn’t seem worried about the guy steadily making his uncomfortable way into Quentin’s personal space.

“My name is Jennifer.”

Quentin blinked once, twice, then said, “Quentin.”

Jennifer smiled. It transformed his (or should he use her?) face into that of a boy’s, shy and eager for contact. Even his body language changed to match the softer tone. “Q. Quuu. Do you know any card tricks?”

A hand fell on Jennifer’s shoulder and he cringed a bit. The young woman standing behind him gave him a disapproving look, then raked her own blank gaze over Quentin’s body, making the hairs on his arms stand at attention.

“Brother. Why are you talking to him? He’s so...boring.”

“Hey!” 

“I want to play a game.”

“Games are boring.” She pulled on her brother’s arm, her grip firm as she pulled him from his chair. “Come. We don’t need him.”

Quentin watched them walk away hand in hand. He felt a bit like he’d been dropped on an alien planet and hit by a ray gun.

“So!”

He jumped as a dark haired girl slid into the now-vacant seat.

“I’ve seen you’ve met the emo twins. Don’t worry about them. Total douchebags.” She leaned towards him and put a hand on his knee. “My name’s Margo. Think of me as your own personal welcome wagon.”

Her hand traveled up the inside of his Quentin’s thigh. He jumped when her fingers pinched the join between leg and groin. 

“Oh, wow, look at that...lunch’s over! Gotta go.”

The ghost of her laughter followed him all the way back to his room.

**Author's Note:**

> My writing track record these past few years have been spotty at best (yay, writers block!), so I'm leaving this as one chapter for now. Fingers crossed I can come back sometime and see how Darth grows. At the moment, he looks like the old Eliot, 'cause that's how Margo built him.


End file.
